


A Knight Under the Big Top

by everydayescapeartist



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Braime AU, F/M, Gen, I'd pay to see them, Inspired by The Greatest Showman (2017), Swordfighting, because why not?, circus braime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21522964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everydayescapeartist/pseuds/everydayescapeartist
Summary: Lions and swords and bears, oh my!  What if our favorite idiots were a circus act?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	A Knight Under the Big Top

**Author's Note:**

> I was rewatching "The Greatest Showman" recently and had the thought that Brienne, Tyrion, and Jaime could fit into this world. So, I decided to set my fingers to the keys and see what came of it. This would be set after the movie's end. Just another short writing exercise for my own amusement. Hope you enjoy it though!

Jaime couldn’t believe he was here, actually considering doing this. When he’d refused his father yet again when asked to take his seat as heir to their company and ancestral home and to take a wife (a marriage his father would arrange), he hadn’t been completely surprised by his disinheritance. That said, he hadn’t been completely prepared for it either. Tyrion had tsked him for that, telling him that even the favorite could fall in their father’s eyes and he should have known he could only push back so long before Tywin would have enough. It was neither here nor there though. Jaime didn’t want to take on the duties of heir and if he had to carve out a new life for himself now, then so be it. He just didn’t know what he thought of the one Tyrion had suggested to him.

He entered the back of the tent with his brother, who had been in the employ of Phineas T. Barnum and his partner Phillip Carlyle for nearly a year now. The circus, as it had become named apparently related to an early scathing newspaper write-up that had used the word and which had tickled Barnum to no end, had become quite successful if still not entirely accepted in more elegant circles such as his father’s and sister’s. Barnum had assembled a band of misfits and freaks who wowed audiences with their oddities as well as their talents. Tyrion had been lumped into this category since birth, having been born a dwarf. Their own father and sister had been tempted to dispose of their less than perfect kin more than once. Now Jaime was also less than perfect, a one-handed freak in their eyes, ever since he’d ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time angering the wrong people who didn’t hold his father and his family name in the high esteem he’d thought they would. Instead, they took perverse joy in bringing him down a peg…or a hand, rather. 

Tyrion took him to meet Barnum and Carlyle, introducing him to others along the way. 

“Mr. Barnum, this is my brother, Jaime…”

“Wait, don’t tell me,” Barnum interrupted. “Ser Goldenhand the Brave.” His manner was jovial. If Jaime found the comment to be mocking, he didn’t believe it was intended that way. He was wearing the atrocious substitute hand his sister had felt most befitting of a Lannister. Pure gold and heavy as hell. At least it did serve as a potential weapon where he could no longer wield one. 

“Indeed,” he responded, amiable grin plastered to his face. He needed a job and a purpose for the time being. 

“Well, Goldenhand, what are your particular talents?” Carlyle chimed in. A chip off the old block, it seemed. 

“I have a few. Some would not be appropriate for your particular show,” he said with a sly wink toward both men. “But I am good at talking, leading, entertaining a crowd. Tyrion informs me that you would both like to spend a little more time at home with your wives and families. Mr. Carlyle, I hear congratulations are in order as you’re to become a father soon.”

“I thank you, Mr. Lannister.” Oh, but of course they actually knew who he was. Tyrion hadn’t lied about their family history then. It probably made him more appealing, maybe just as appealing as Phillip Carlyle had been to Barnum. “This isn’t untrue but of course, as to your talents, we’d just be taking your word for it at this point.”

“Naturally, I’d expect you to put me through the paces.”

“My brother has other skills as well, sirs.”

“Is that right?” Barnum asked.

“He is a master swordsman.”

“ _Was_ a master swordsman,” Jaime interrupted. “Someone didn’t appreciate the competition,” he said, holding up his gold hand wryly. 

“Nonetheless,” Tyrion shot him a scowl, “Jaime has been diligently training his left hand and arm to achieve a similar mastery."

“It’s a work in progress. Listen, gentlemen…I could sell tickets. Or souvenirs. Or snacks. I would be amenable to helping behind-the-scenes as well. Put me where you can use me. My brother here has just been lost without me and I’d hate to let him down.” Beside him, Tyrion rolled his eyes. 

“You’re on, Goldenhand,” Barnum said. “For tonight, go sit in the stands and enjoy the show. Then, report back in the morning with your brother.”

Jaime did just that. As much as he had been skeptical about the circus when his brother had first written him about it, he still found himself in awe of the group of performers and the variety of acts. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before and he could tell that those around him in the audience felt the same kind of enjoyment. There was one act in particular that proved most memorable for him. She strode to the center of the ring, tall and imposing, fiercely attired…a lady knight. Her opponent for the sword-fighting act was clearly not as good as she was, which was really the only thing that took away from the impressive display. Jaime watched her tactics and thought about how he would parry here or attack there. Tyrion hadn’t lied. He had improved measurably with his left-handed fighting. His abilities still paled in comparison to what he’d been able to do with his sword hand…the original one. He missed it greatly. At times, he thought that he could still feel it. At times, he forgot and the clunk of his golden replica brought him back to reality. His current reality left him curious. He was curious about this lady knight and while he’d told Barnum and Carlyle they could set him to any task, he now found himself hoping that his brother's proud ramblings might land him a more specific job, might land him an opportunity to work more closely with her. 

Seeing the show had stirred something within him and he found he didn’t sleep particularly well that night. The next morning, Carlyle asked Tyrion to introduce him to Brienne. That was her name. Tyrion had told him that much last night when he’d drilled him for information. “Play nice, Jaime,” Tyrion urged him as they walked toward the sword training area. 

“I don’t know what you mean, brother. Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Because she will challenge you. She’s serious. You’re not. She’s a maid. You’re…not. Also, our family isn’t the most beloved by anyone.”

“Fine, fine. I have no intention of being anything less than my charming self.”

“That’s what worries me,” Tyrion muttered, just before coming to a stop a couple feet away from where Brienne was speaking with her less than equal opponent from the night before and examining a blade. She wore a simple tunic and trousers today and only a strapped on metal chest plate as opposed to her full blue armor.

Jaime stepped forward and cleared his throat. “The sword you used last night was more worthy of you.”

She turned and scrunched up her face at him, looking him up and down for a long moment and Jaime couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so naked beneath someone’s eyes when he wasn’t in fact naked. “I don’t disagree with you. Mr. Lannister number two, is it?”

“Technically, number one. I have a few years on Tyrion.”

“Yes, Brienne, this is my older brother, Jaime. Jaime, this is Brienne Tarth.”

Jaime reached his left hand out for her to shake and she only hesitated briefly before gripping it firmly for several seconds. “Welcome to the circus.”

“Glad to be here.”

“This is Hyle Hunt.” 

Jaime shook Hunt’s hand as well. 

“Carlyle wanted you to train with my brother, Brienne, and see if he might be worked into the act,” Tyrion put in.

“Yes. He spoke with me just a little while ago.” She turned to Jaime then. “Ser Goldenhand the Brave? Did you choose that or did Barnum?”

“Barnum. And you? The Blue Knight?”

“Barnum. He has a flare for these things.”

“Indeed. It seems to be working out well for him.”

“And for us for the moment. Are you ready to train for a while?”

“Absolutely.”

“We have padded vests or armor over here.” She pointed to a chest against the nearby wall.

“Good to know.”

He held her gaze, lips curved in a smile that must have been the right amount of cocky to aggravate her. She shook her head slightly at him. “Have it your way. Hyle, can you pass the training swords?”

Hyle eyed Jaime suspiciously but passed him a wooden sword after he’d done the same to Brienne. Jaime followed her into the center of the marked off sparring area. She was even taller up close. She actually had an inch or two on him and he’d been blessed with height. They came to a stop and stood staring each other down for a minute. “Show me what you’ve got, Lannister.”

He couldn’t help himself; he smirked. “Jaime. You should probably just call me Jaime if I’m going to show you what I’ve got.” He jabbed. She easily blocked. 

“What makes you think it’s more impressive than anything I’ve seen before?” She attacked. He parried. 

“Have many men put themselves on display for you?” A thrust here, a thrust there…testing each other for weak areas.

“Men put themselves on display every chance they get.” A good slice from the Blue Knight but he was able to push her back. 

“Fair. But there are no men like me, I assure you. Only me.”

She eyed him steadily, looking unimpressed. That only fueled him more. 

“You shouldn’t grimace before you lunge,” he advised. "It gives away the game.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his brother grimace. 

She smiled, a big, toothy grin he had not been expecting. Her teeth were somewhat crooked and her lips a bit too big but still he felt captivated

in some way…distracted. He almost botched his parry. “Better?” she asked, mocking him. He wasn’t used to being mocked…well, by those outside his family anyway. He felt his jaw twitch his irritation.

“You have quite a mouth, Brienne. Sword swallowing isn’t amongst your sword skills by chance, is it?” He heard his brother clear his throat in the background and ignored it.

“No. Is it among yours?” she asked coolly. 

“No. Sorry to disappoint.”

“It is a pity. It would require you to cease talking for more than a second.”

“Not a fan of foreplay, huh?” She forced him back with a series of quick attacks. “Oh, straight to the climax hard and fast then.” He met her blows and countered with a series of his own. He was tiring more than he’d like to and certainly more than he’d ever admit. He had improved with his left but it still wasn’t as strong as his right, probably never would be. 

“I’m immune to whatever charms you think you possess.”

He chuckled at that. “Good. You’d be a far less interesting opponent if you weren’t.” She seemed surprised by that comment and he used that to his advantage. He was tired, he was down a hand, but he had years of experience over her and a newfound knowledge of the benefits of a golden hand. When the next opportunity presented itself, instead of blocking with his sword as she expected, he blocked with his fake hand, stepped into her space, and brought his sword to her neck, grunting “yield.” His positioning was awkward, but with his sword laid beneath her chin, no one would contest the match was his. They stood in tense silence, both breathing heavily. He could feel the heat emanating from her body and was sure she could feel it from his. Her stare pierced him. Her eyes were a striking blue. He had noticed them before but they were even more intense in this moment. “I.Yield.” she gritted out finally. 

The sound of a slow, steady clap caught their attention and they hastily stepped back from one another. 

Barnum and Carlyle were walking toward them, both looking amused. “Ser Goldenhand the Brave, indeed,” Barnum said. “Quite brave to take on Brienne and a nice touch there at the end with the hand. It’s a pity that might not work for you again.”

Jaime studied Brienne for a moment. He could tell that she was a quick study. She’d absorbed lessons from him already that day and he thought, not unpleasantly, that she had lessons she could likely teach him. He’d never fought anyone like her. “I think you could be right, gentlemen. I’ll accept that it worked today though. I’ll have to remember the exhilaration of this moment every time I get beaten into the dust in front of an audience from now on.” He nodded to Brienne, acknowledging her skill.

“At least you’re prepared,” Carlyle said with a laugh. “You two and Hyle should continue to train together. We’ll rotate you each into different performances. Maybe you can choreograph that hand move into some of them.”

All three nodded their understanding, though Jaime looked the most pleased about it. Tyrion was a close second, looking somewhat relieved.

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Jaime said, meaning it.

“Thank you for the show.” Carlyle put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder and led him a few steps away before giving a word of warning. “Lannister, you might want to have a care or she might request you for one of her other acts.”

“Why would that be a bad thing?”

“Guess it depends what floats your boat.”

“What are her other acts?”

“She’s our bear and lion tamer.”

Of course she was. She seemed brave enough to face a bear. It was the latter bit that caught his attention more though. “A lion tamer, huh?” He looked over his shoulder at the still fuming Brienne, her skin flushed from their recent bout. He couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. He’d been known for years as the golden lion, at least before he’d become one hand lighter. “We’ll see."


End file.
